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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23893354">and we're going 'round and 'round, playing silly games</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aho_Mika_Baka/pseuds/Aho_Mika_Baka'>Aho_Mika_Baka</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dulce bellum inexpertis [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Villains Series - V. E. Schwab</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Canon compliant? - perhaps, Character Study, Dirty Thoughts, Eli-centric, I'm Sorry, Introspection, Lockland University, M/M, Pining, Roommates, Secrets, Sleepless nights, Sneaky boys, Start of a friendship, just so you know I am not religious</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:35:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,923</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23893354</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aho_Mika_Baka/pseuds/Aho_Mika_Baka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This was one of those times he wished he didn't have a roommate, especially if said roommate was Victor Vale.</p>
<p> <br/>Or where Eli finds all his thoughts to be circling around a certain man living with him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eli Cardale | Eli Ever/Victor Vale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dulce bellum inexpertis [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718152</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>and we're going 'round and 'round, playing silly games</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by the song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ucVUEmjKsko">"Ride It"</a> by Regard.</p>
<p>Here is the second fic in this series, describing the time following the events of the previous fic, this time through Eli's eyes. I would strongly recommend reading the first story before getting to this one.</p>
<p>By the way, it was incredibly difficult for me to put myself in Eli's shoes, so I'm sorry if it seems a bit all over the place.</p>
<p>Also, English is still not my first language, and I apologize for any typos and grammar or spelling mistakes.</p>
<p>Nevertheless, my fellow villain-lovers, enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Ride it, we're all alone</em>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Ride it, just lose control</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It had been nearly two months. Two months since Eli had stumbled home from the house party that had offered awful cheap beer and where everyone smelled of weed, two months since he had tried to determine whether his roommate was asleep or not, two months since he had heard those muffled, sinful noises coming from Victor's room. And two months was clearly not enough for Eli's mind to cleanse itself from imagining whatever went on behind that door.</p>
<p class="western">That night Eli had rushed back into his room, not minding all the creaky floorboards as his numb feet got caught behind stacks of books and take-out boxes. The only thought in his head had been to lock himself in for the night, and possibly the whole morning as well if it wasn't for the upcoming anatomy test. All in all, it was not that he was horrified of the possible action being performed behind the closed door, it was the way <em>he</em> had reacted. Securely in his bedroom, Eli had all but dropped on the fresh sheets. He couldn't be bothered to undress, an approaching headache making the contents of his room waver before his eyes, and so he lay down, threw his arm over his eyes and tried to hold the inevitable thoughts at bay.</p>
<p class="western">The following days had been torture. This was one of those times he wished he didn't have a roommate, especially if said roommate was Victor Vale. Victor Vale with his sharp edges and pale skin, pale hair, pale eyes, and the air full of electricity around him. Eli hadn't thought much about the guy when they had first met, except for the sense that there was more to him than the intimidating looks and a famous name. Unfortunately, he had been right. And the thing about Victor was that he was blunt, irreparably straightforward and saw right through Eli like he was a window with no curtains whatsoever. He had discovered that much too fast.</p>
<p class="western">Every time Eli met someone new, he observed and adapted to the situation, to the people. With Victor, that had been nearly impossible. He had stumbled upon Eli's secret fit of rage early on, and there had simply been a knowing look in his eyes as Eli himself had been petrified with panic. Whatever had happened that day, it had affected all that followed. Eli had more often than not found Victor's eyes watching him, following his moves, as if waiting for something. He was not sure what the guy expected but it was worrying him greatly – he couldn't let everything he had built over the years crumble because of some guy's ego.</p>
<p class="western">Obviously, keeping that game up and going turned out to be a real source of entertainment for the both of them, neither giving up in their goal to bring the other down to his knees. Victor had successfully managed to piss Eli off in more ways than one, and every time he had relished in the gradually escalating rawness of his reactions. He seemed to favour the darker side of Eli, discarding his carefully crafted, brilliant mask altogether. Eli wasn't sure he enjoyed it.</p>
<p class="western">One day, after a particularly annoying pop-quiz and even more annoying results, Eli was busy pacing around their small sitting room, ranting about the injustice and whatnot, while Victor was spread out on the ancient couch, reading a textbook and not really paying attention to Eli's angry speech. As he took a deep breath to cool himself down after nearly lashing out over his roommate's inattentiveness, said roommate spoke up. <em>Why hold back?  </em>he said, and turned the page in his book. To say Eli was perplexed would be a mild underestimation as he caught the blue of Victor's eyes, question evident in his face. Victor only sighed and closed the book before standing up and walking to his bedroom. And at that moment, Eli was ready to go ballistic.</p>
<p class="western">Seizing the opportunity, Eli saw a chance for a payback a few days later, when Victor was nearly ripping his own hair out at the audacity of his parents sending him a thanksgiving card from one of their tours. He had been waiting for a moment like this – he couldn't be the only one with a monster hiding inside. And so, nonchalantly stirring a spoon in his coffee, Eli said <em>Why hold back?  </em>in a serious tone, with an edge of tease. Victor stopped and turned to Eli, the look on his face aghast.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Ride it, ride it, come touch my soul</em>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Ride it, ride it, let me feel you</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Now, two months after the house party, Eli was tired. Tired of the indecisiveness of his own mind, and of the games Victor kept playing with him. There was no way he could've known that Eli was there that night, and that he knew everything. Yet, Victor was confusing him even more than earlier – it could've been his own understanding of the situation, but he was more than certain that his roommate could sense the tension in him. He still watched Eli like he was some kind of science experiment, still urged him to show his true colours with his usual ways and even so, he seemed to put more distance between the two of them. It was infuriating.</p>
<p class="western">Studying together was another thing proving to be burdensome. Not only did Eli's thoughts drift back to the sounds he heard from Victor's room that night but Victor was as unfathomable as ever. One moment he downright radiated coldness, evidently not caring about whether Eli was there with him or not, on another he was boring a hole into Eli's head, his attention unwavering as he handed Eli his notes, making sure their fingers grazed along the way.</p>
<p class="western">The way Eli reacted should not have been that extreme – he was not a starved man on a lonely island for God's sake –, nevertheless, he had never felt so thirsty. He imagined having Victor's eyes running up and down his body, he imagined those elegant fingers thrumming over the skin on his chest, moving downwards. Forcing his heartbeat steadier, he glued his eyes on the text in the book and didn't look up once after.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Ride it, turn the lights down low</em>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Ride it, from head to toe</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It was one of those nights when the two of them were huddled together on their tattered couch, the world outside gray and gloomy with the lasting downpour of late autumn, their motivation to study down to near zero. The obvious thing to do in that situation was to seek out the stray half-finished bottle of scotch, brought in by Victor from the last visit to his childhood home, saved for the somber days which were now upon them.</p>
<p class="western">They didn't have any proper glasses for such drink, so Victor brought them a juice glass and the only clean coffee cup from their tiny kitchen corner, and filled both with stolen alcohol. It was getting darker outside but neither could be bothered to drag themselves up to switch on the light, and they ended up in the dim exposure of streetlight shining in from their windows, discussing philosophers, bone structures, serial killers and, regrettably, religion.</p>
<p class="western">Disputes got more heated with time, the alcohol in their systems only encouraging the debates with no unitary solutions, and even the air surrounding the two got hotter. Eli could feel his back smoldering as he tugged away the pillow he had been propped against with one swift move, but when he looked to his side, where Victor was leaning sideways on the armrest, wearing a thick, expensive sweater, he didn't seem to be affected by the heat at all.</p>
<p class="western">With his intoxicated brain too smushed to think straight, Eli found his gaze lingering, taking in all of his roommate, from his pale hair that had fallen on his forehead, to his unfocused eyes, to his slightly parted lips, down to his thin waist, to those hips fitted snugly into his slacks. He didn't dare to go lower as he swallowed dry, feeling his fingers trembling around the now empty juice glass. Victor had noticed.</p>
<p class="western">Those freezing eyes were stuck on tanned fingers before they travelled up, and met warm brown ones. This look of his got Eli feeling something, the wild in his core suddenly wanting freedom, begging to be let out. Victor held his stare, the air between them shifting, and raised his cup of scotch to his lips, letting the edge of it pry them open as if daring Eli to do something about it. As always, Victor was ready to test him in some way, desperate to see the thing lurking inside him. <em>Tell me, Cardale, what do you desire?  </em>he asked with a sly curl of his lips, the words ending up a bit slurred.</p>
<p class="western">Eli was a goner. He could feel the pulse on the side of his neck, blood running hot, and his fingers itched to grab the pale face of his roommate, to hold his jaw tight, to cover those sinful lips with his own. Pupils dilated, Eli stared at Victor as he tried to get himself under control. He couldn't recall his answer.</p>
<p class="western">
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Ride it, ride it, touch my soul</em>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Ride it, ride it, let me feel you</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He thought of Victor. He thought about his body, his eyes, his voice, his graceful stride as he decreases the distance between them. Eli tossed and turned between his sheets at night, when the campus was asleep and there was no moon shining in the sky. He thought of Victor's gaze on him, thought about the way his lips move as he recites his essays to Eli, thought about the lingering touches as they exchange pens or pieces of paper. Eli couldn't sleep.</p>
<p class="western">He was exhausted but his mind kept drifting off to the games Victor played, to the way he knew which buttons to push to make Eli show his real self, to reveal this beast living within. He tried thinking about something else – <em>anything</em> else –, pressing his face into the pathetic excuse of a pillow until his ears were ringing, throwing aside his blanket until he couldn't feel his frozen toes, pinching the skin on his forearm until it was sore to the touch of soft sheets. He wanted to get up and drink a glass of water, or perhaps drown himself in the kitchen sink. He was willing to make a deal with the Devil himself if only he could sleep.</p>
<p class="western">He imagined holding those delicate wrists tightly in his hands and not letting go, he imagined pressing his fingerprints into those slender hips, he imagined the trail of red and purple left in his wake on the milky skin. Eli stared at the ceiling, and looked for the tiny cracks in it but saw none of those due to all-encompassing darkness. Oh, how he wanted to bite, suck, punch and <em>tear apart</em>.</p>
<p class="western">As a respectable Christian and a faithful man, Eli rose, sat on his calves on the bed, clasped his hands together and closed his eyes. His breathing slowed, the mere sentiment of this ritual calming both his body and mind as silent words of prayers started falling from his lips, spilling out in a continuous flow of confessing and pleading. But none of this made a difference. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about Victor on his knees.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Will there be more? I damn sure hope so.</p>
<p>When will there be more? I have no idea, I'm sorry.</p>
<p>In the meantime, kudos and comments are much appreciated - I would love to hear your thoughts!</p>
<p>Stay healthy and positive everyone!</p>
<p>Warm wishes,<br/>Author.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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